'Oh wad some power the giftie gie us, to see oursels as ithers see us.'

The words of our national bard were ringing in my ears on a recent visit to the North of Fife Foal Show, one of several traditional Clydesdale foal shows held throughout Scotland prior to Christmas.

Understandably, numbers of entries don’t compare to years gone by, however it is testimony to the determination of organisers that they have kept the tradition going in this part of the country, with 2016 celebrating its centenary.

Steeped in history, one has to wonder what its Edwardian founders would think of their modern show.

Staged at the Highfield@Howe Centre, near Ladybank, I was immediately struck by the numbers of cars in the car park and the number of spectators round the ring.

This noticeably marks the difference between a horse show and an agricultural event and it can be safely assumed that the obvious enthusiasm is matched by the knowledge shared by the onlookers whose average age was somewhere north of 60 and there was a great atmosphere.

I used to experience the same thing at the National Stallion Show, at Scotstoun, many moons ago and at Lampeter Stallion Show, in Wales, where our Celtic cousins have a similar tradition, but theirs focusing on the Welsh cob.

I was impressed by the number of young people round the ring who were equally as studious as their older counterparts. With mobile phones safely stowed away in pockets for most of the time, they even had time for conversation – amazing!

Having decided to treat myself to a day out at the show, I was surprised that I wasn’t bored at any stage but had to abandon the ringside in order to get a heat inside.

Equestrian centres, like livestock markets, have to be the coldest places on earth, even on a moderately mild day. Ironically, the lengthy queues in the canteen were all that more bearable as a result.

The show was well run and I was impressed by the main ring steward who seemed to leave the judge to his own devices most of time so had time of his own to share a bit of banter with the ringside.

His loud ‘Yeehah!’ as the winners left the ring at a trot added a vibrancy to proceedings which were otherwise low key if not pedantic.

The world of showing Clydesdales is far removed from my own experience and none the worse for that (I hasten to add) but the process of in hand showing is slow, very slow in fact, particularly the walk, almost to the point of it looking lifeless.

I had to keep reminding myself of the origins of the breed and its function. One thing is for sure, there wouldn’t be much ploughing achieved if done at showing pace.

Short, deliberate strides appear to be the norm. However, on the plus side, they cut down the rustling of the waterproof trousers sported by a number of handlers.

This obviously caught my imagination but so too the left arm positioning across the chest – someone please explain to me what that is all about. And as for the small showing sticks when a walking stick might be more appropriate – really?

It also struck me that perhaps it was because the handlers are well hidden by their horses, that there isn’t much room for showmanship for there was little on view from my side of the ring.

Incredibly, one lady leader point blankly refused to trot her horse out of the ring despite several ‘Yeehahs!’ from the steward.

A judge recently told me of advice he gave to some American exhibitors who tend to show their ponies on a long lead with heads near to the ground.

In his words: “The key is in the word ‘show.’ It’s your job to go out and show your pony.” Am I wrong, but do the Shire horse exhibitors demonstrate a bit more exuberance for the job than our self-effacing Scots men and women?

Everything seemed to be so serious – even the youngest handlers couldn’t raise much of a smile at the point of receiving their rosettes.

I well remember reading a sign at the rear of a door which led to the main hallway of a prestigious Scottish Borders hotel, which read: “If your face wants to smile, let it and if doesn’t – make it!”

Such was the importance felt by the hotel management of public perceptions. No-one more than me knows the enormous effort that goes into showing livestock and, unless you’re going for a picnic, the result is important but come on boys, you do need to lighten up a bit.

One thing that was heartening to observe was the obvious camaraderie shown between exhibitors particularly at times when one of the foals wasn’t too keen to trot out.

Totally uninvited, a volunteer from the opposition quickly jumped into action by applying a moderate but welcome chase.

Throughout the morning, I had a great view of the judging as I stood immediately behind the judge, Paul Bedford, from Yorkshire, who managed to last out the task without lengthy deliberations or a lean on a crook.

Again, trying to understand the origins of the breed and its workplace, I had plenty of time to observe both conformation and movement, wondering at the differences between the Clydesdale breed and most others.

Given the mechanics behind both load-bearing strength of the limbs and their locomotion, I find it difficult to rationalise the emphasis on the close hocks and the predominance of front leg conformation called ‘back of the knee’ which appeared in varying degree in all the horses I saw.

Out of respect for the breeders who have developed the Clydesdale in the past and who maintain the tradition to this day, I don’t question their wisdom but choose to agree to disagree with the principles.

All that said, I thoroughly enjoyed my day and came away the better having seen one of the most impressive and beautiful equines I have seen for a very long time.

Of course, I refer to Collessie Jennifer – no wonder she has been such a great champion elsewhere.

Being overall champion at this centenary event little more than a mile away from the field in which she was foaled was a great way to end such a noteworthy event for its centenary.